Reinvent
by GamingMama6
Summary: (Story 1 in my timeline.) A story where Yennefer and Triss attempt to rebuild their friendship during a turning point in Triss's life. Set after B&W but heavily sources book material. Spoilers throughout. Yennefer/Geralt (although Geralt only plays a minor role, as it's the ladies' turn to take the spotlight for once).
1. Chapter 1

**Reinvent**

 **(Author's Note:** This story contains both spoilers and references to the games and the books.)

Geralt liked Beauclair now. When he had first come at Anna Henrietta's behest just over a year ago, he'd been reminded of bitter memories which he'd thought had died along with him in Rivia but clearly did not. The whole city, not to mention that there was a murderer known only as The Beast prowling the place, had made him feel irritable. He'd often found himself wanting to escape Toussaint during his hunt for The Beast, to go to Yennefer and just be with her. But he had stuck it out and done his job, and now, he was immensely glad that he did.

As he rode into the cobblestone-lined city, knights errant clad ludicrously in shimmering gold armor greeting him on their honor, he could not help but feel both appreciative and appreciated. Here, in this fairytale of a land, he had finally found a home – an ending for himself and Yennefer.

Geralt slowed his horse with a "Whoa, Roach," and the mare obeyed, curbing her gait to a trot. He was tugging on the reins to turn her toward the direction of his sword smith when he spotted a very familiar sight: A slim raven-haired woman in a lacey black and white dress was walking resolutely (Did she know any other way to walk?) toward the end of the street. Geralt was debating whether to call her name and ask what she was doing in town when Yennefer turned on her heel and marched into a tavern.

Curiosity got the best of him, though admittedly, he did not try to fight it in the least bit. Why hadn't Yennefer told him that she was going into town today, and more importantly, what was she doing in a tavern at midday? Geralt hopped off of his mount and walked softly toward the establishment that he had seen his love enter. He was still very far away and knew that he was not at risk of having his footsteps heard by Yennefer, but he decided to keep quieter than a cat anyway, lest… He didn't know, but he knew he wanted to stay out of her notice.

It took the slowly padding Geralt a while to reach the tavern window, but when he did, he immediately shot away. He hadn't quite known whom he expected to see Yennefer with – one of the women she'd met at a court festivity, or maybe a worker from the estate whom she'd taken a liking to, perhaps even alone just for a drink, or heaven forbid fucking Istredd come to proclaim his love for her again… The possibilities were many, but he was not expecting to see Triss Merigold.

Geralt had no clue how to process what he had just seen – the profiles of Yennefer and Triss sitting across from one another, each with a goblet of wine in hand, each scrutinizing the other's face – so he filed away the image and sped off in the opposite direction, toward his horse. Yennefer would tell him about it when she was ready, probably, so there was no point in him overthinking this meeting, probably.

He just wouldn't let on that he saw them. Something about those two women together always made him feel like he was in trouble.

* * *

"So why is it you've come to Toussaint, Triss?" Yennefer casually inquired. "And why is it you've called this meeting with me?"

"I'll spare you the details, but I'm here on Lodge business," Triss answered the first question quickly. She wanted neither to think about having to work with Fringilla Vigo nor to be the one to reveal to Yennefer that Fringilla was back in Beauclair. But it appeared that Yennefer already knew.

"I can't imagine it's easy working with _her_." Yennefer spat out the last word a little bit too forcefully.

"Yeah, well, it's the price of doing business."

"Yes, but to whose end, Triss?" Triss knew the mask of nonchalance that Yennefer wore was only temporary, and that it would shed at any moment to reveal the long-seated resentment that the two women had never resolved. "Are you certain that what benefits the Lodge benefits you, also?"

"Even if not directly, then at least as a means to an end." Triss started to go on the defensive. She was expecting Yennefer's attack at any moment now – accusations and long-buried grievances drug up and thrown in her face.

"And does Philippa know you're meeting with me?" Any moment now.

"No, although I'm not sure it matters. I'm not meeting with you as a representative of the Lodge, after all. Just as myself, and I'm still a free person." Yennefer, impressively, did not react to that final statement – something Triss had laid as a way to trigger the damn fight already.

Instead, Yennefer only let out a small sigh and stared at a spot behind Triss's head before finally speaking. "And why are you meeting with me of your own volition?"

There was a tinge of something in Yennefer's voice that Triss found foreign. Sadness? "I'm honestly not that sure, myself. I was in Beauclair, and I knew you and Geralt lived quite close to the grounds. So I sent a courier."

Yennefer sat for a while, fiddling with the star around her neck, not looking at anything in particular. Triss found the silence heavy but not awkward; she knew Yennefer had calculated the silence carefully and had planned the precise words with which to break it. Triss had rehearsed a few scenarios in her head and had prepared a handful of lines with which to retort. As Yennefer opened her mouth, Triss braced herself.

"I'm glad, Triss."

The only thing more unexpected than the words themselves was the sincerity with which they were spoken. Triss was at a loss. Yennefer didn't seem to notice or mind; she continued speaking.

"Firstly, and you must know this by now, although you'll be the first person that I've officially declared this to: I'm retired. I'm done. I'm out of it all. Really, happily retired."

"Retired from what, exactly?" Triss was genuinely curious; she knew Yennefer was no longer active in political matters, but one did not simply retire from being a mage. Magic was for life.

"From the bullshit." Yennefer said simply, taking a drink from her goblet. Triss let out a small laugh.

"I guess I understand," she replied. "It gets pretty taxing at times."

"Indeed, I can relate. I chose my path very early on, and I valued it dearly – my magic, my powers, my positions in court as in society. But after watching someone you love die and then dying very soon after yourself, only to be resurrected and given a second chance years later – let's just say that perspectives are wont to shift after such experiences."

The reference brought back a painful memory for Triss, but she pushed it aside. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want to help you understand my perspective now, Triss. Despite what happened all those years ago, despite your choices and allegiance then, I bear you neither ill will nor grudge for them. I now see that you chose, then, to ally yourself with a purpose which you undoubtedly believed was the right one, the righteous one, even if the means were unsavory. And believe me, I am self-aware enough to know that I am not one to cast stones where unsavory means are called for to achieve the right end. So I understand, even respect, a little, your devotion to the Lodge at the time; even if it came at the expense of what I cared about, I understand your reason.

"On top of which, I'm sure your decision to put the Lodge ahead of me, Ciri, and even Geralt all those years ago has no doubt plagued you with guilt and regret. Your actions since have further demonstrated that if put in the same position now, you would decide very differently, much more humanely. Am I wrong?"

Triss lowered her eyes. She was afraid to answer Yennefer's question – partly to know the answer herself, and partly of Philippa somehow hearing that answer. That lady had ways.

"Therefore, my dear Triss, I forgive you. You once asked for my forgiveness, and I now, almost a decade later, grant it. I won't pretend to know what that means to you on a personal level, but I do know that you've been letting the guilt from those times mar your life for far too long, and I imagine you would like for that to stop."

"I'll admit…" Triss started hesitantly. Yennefer had been doing all the talking; Triss needed to say her piece, although she was having some difficulty formulating her words. Yennefer waited patiently, taking another drink of wine while Triss composed her thoughts. "I'll admit that even though I wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting with you today, part of me was hoping that we would finally fight with one another so we could get it all out in the open. And I wanted to win that fight, of course, but part of me also wanted you to destroy me so badly that I could feel like I've atoned."

"Fight and destroy each other… magically? With fists and nails? Or-"

"Words, Yenna. Nobody wields words like you – you know that. Maybe except for Philippa."

"Yes, well, I shall choose to take a bit of offense to that comparison, as I think Philippa Eilhart is a real bitch."

Triss cracked a smile, then immediately stopped herself. She still could never be sure if Philippa was watching her every move.

"I'll sum up my previous point, Triss, and continue to the next topic: Everything between Thanedd and Rivia is history. I forgive you. Now let's move on."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this next topic?"

"Because you know what it is."

"Geralt."

The two women sat in silence again. This time, there was more edge, much more edge, in Yennefer's eyes. Triss once again braced herself for a verbal joust, although now, she was neither as confident nor as eager to engage with her former friend.

"I won't go so far as to scream in your face that he's mine, Triss. Not again, anyway. But stay the fuck away from our relationship. You only ever torment him with guilt, me with anger, and yourself with longing – and none of that will change, ever. It's best for all involved if you just stay out."

"I'm not coming after him, Yennefer," Triss defended. "If anything, watch out for Fringilla Vigo."

Yennefer's eyes burned for a brief second. Triss felt her own do the same.

"If Toussaint is a portrait of a fairytale," Yennefer intoned flatly, "Fringilla Vigo is the stain of shit smeared on its canvas by a drunk syphilitic urchin."

Triss did laugh at this comment. It felt good to have a common enemy.

Yennefer allowed a few beats to pass for Triss to insert her own jab, but Triss did not partake. Hate Fringilla as she might, they were both still fellow Lodge members. She could go no further than to enjoy the insults said by another.

"Triss, I'm honestly not worried about her," Yennefer supplied when Triss remained silent. "To be frank, I'm not worried about you, either. Geralt chose me, and he will continue to choose me, always. And what we have together now, you might not even recognize – but it's stronger than what a few former flames can shake."

"I'm glad for you," Triss said genuinely.

"Thank you," Yennefer accepted. "However, that does not mean I don't hold anger towards you for what you did with him when he lost his memory."

 _Finally._ "He didn't remember you, Yennefer, and he was lost. He needed support, comfort, and love. I gave him all of those things when you were not around." These were words that Triss had rehearsed. She had more in her arsenal.

"I was 'not around,' as you say, because I saw the kind of _support_ and _comfort_ you were giving him, and it was quite impossible for me to insert myself then," Yennefer looked as if she bit back the words 'you whore' at the last moment. "And that you withheld memories of me from him for as long as you did – that is what I would consider a direct betrayal of my friendship, Triss."

"We haven't been friends for a long time now, Yenna."

Yennefer looked stung for a moment. Triss felt a pang of guilt but pushed on. She hated having to juggle so much guilt in her life.

"I loved him, Yennefer. And I believed I could give him the stability and the type of life that a man like that deserved. You were always hurting each other, always, over and over and over. I didn't want to throw him back into that vicious cycle he had with you when I knew I could provide better for him. So I decided to withhold those memories for as long as I could – to protect him, for his own good. In your words, unsavory means for the right end."

Yennefer pursed her lips, then closed her eyes, as if to steady herself. After a while, she smiled bitterly. "Though I know you are merely justifying what you know truthfully to be despicable actions, you do make a point. Had I not seen with my own eyes the type of life Geralt and I have built together here, I may even be inclined to agree with you. Our relationship, for too long, was toxic. Frankly, I, for too long, was toxic. And Geralt was plainly ill equipped to deal with a relationship, let alone a relationship with me. But things are different now; don't you worry yourself."

Yennefer and Triss both sipped on their goblets. Yennefer was not finished talking, but her tone softened slightly.

"I know you truly cared for him, Triss. Perhaps you still do, even now. And so I assure you, as someone who is deeply invested in his happiness, I am providing for him what you could never have hoped to. And that is no insult to you – it is a simple truth."

"I fucking know," Triss blurted in admission. "Even when he didn't remember you, I knew he loved you and could never feel the same about me. Geralt was always meant to be with you. And believe it or not, I'm not holding a candle for him anymore. I'm… with someone now – I won't get into it, but trust me when I say I have no intentions of going after your man. Geralt is a name that I'll remember with more fondness than longing now."

"Alright. I suppose that's settled, then," Yennefer said almost conclusively, although Triss detected a hint of hesitation in her tone.

"Wait."

"I'm listening."

Triss took a deep breath and steeled herself, willing herself the courage to speak her heart. "We haven't been friends for a long time now, Yenna," she rushed out before the words could catch in her throat or her pride, "but I'd like for that to change."

Yennefer appeared to slowly weigh the sincerity of those words. Triss wished Yennefer would say something, fast, because she had just left herself incredibly vulnerable to a woman whose tongue was infamous for cutting deep, festering wounds.

Instead, Yennefer did not use her tongue at all. She put a hand over Triss's and gave a gentle squeeze, then looked at Triss with a mix of defensiveness and something resembling elation.

"So would I, Triss." Triss sensed a 'but' coming, so she pre-empted it.

"I'm a bit weary from having to ask for your forgiveness so much, but I'll do it again because I know it's what's necessary for us to move on, and that it's necessary because it's the truth: I'm sorry that I hurt you when I kept Geralt from you. I justified my actions in many ways, a few of which I still believe hold a certain degree of validity, but it was a very shitty thing to do. I know it was." She breathed out a long sigh, then decided to discard the last of her defenses, daring to meet Yennefer's eyes fully and sincerely. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Yenna. I truly am. If I could do it again, I wouldn't."

"Thank you, Triss." Yennefer gave her hand another reaffirming squeeze, which Triss returned. She saw in Yennefer's eyes only elation now. Triss was sure her own expression was a mirror image. She broke the contact with her friend's hand to lift her goblet high. Yennefer did the same, and without words, they toasted to their slowly rekindling friendship.

The air felt lighter now. Triss let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. They confirmed their truce once more with a smile at one another, and Triss noticed that Yennefer's smiles reached her eyes now. Perhaps retirement really had been good for her.

"At the risk of ruining a sentimental moment, Triss, might I ask you a serious question?"

"Oh, shit?"

"No, it's nothing bad. Though when did you pick up the habit to curse so freely?"

"I've been holding back, actually."

"My, you really have changed, my prim and proper little Triss."

"Get on with it, Yenna. What's your question?"

"What you're working on with Fringilla – you've no need to divulge to me any details, though I'd like, as your new old friend, to know at least the length of your stay. But your business here: Will it impact my family?"

"Don't worry. The Lodge knows better than to provoke the mother bear." ("Excuse me, _bear_?") "What we're doing is not even that significant – more along the lines of strengthening political alliances."

"I see. And forgive my untoward forwardness, but I must ask: Can I trust you to warn me if the Lodge has my family of bears in their aim again?"

"You want a mole?"

"I want a friend whom I can trust."

Triss paused. _Yes, Yenna_ , she thought forcefully. She knew Yennefer had heard her thoughts.

 _Thank you_.

"I'll be in Beauclair for a few more days. Then I'm off back to Novigrad for a bit."

"Are the pogroms over, then?"

"They've died down significantly since Radovid bit the dust, but there are still some leftover Witch Hunters who believe themselves to be the harbingers of truth. They're backed by the Eternal Fire, and they've formed underground factions that continue to target the nonhumans and the mages, though it's now more assassinations than outright persecution. Stabs instead of stakes."

"Be careful, Triss. Stay out of the North for a while if you feel it too risky."

"Thank you, but I can take care of myself," Triss said as a reassurance rather than a retort. Yennefer seemed to accept it as such. "Now, you said you had a few things you wanted to talk about. What else was on your mind?"

Yennefer gave a quick but sincere smile. "Do you want the mood light or heavy?"

Triss groaned. "There's another heavy one in there? Light, Yenna. Go with the light one first."

Yennefer refilled their goblets, gestured for another toast, and drank. Triss followed suit, unsure of what was to come.

"So tell me," Yennefer spoke with deliberate pacing.

"What?" Triss was both agitated and amused by the glint in her friend's eyes.

"Who are you seeing?"

Triss laughed happily. This topic, she was glad to broach. "You'll never guess, but I sorta want you to." She'd missed their girl talks.

"So he's someone I know?"

"Yep."

"Well?"

"Well enough."

"Am I using the correct pronoun?"

"He's a man, yes."

"A human man?"

"Mostly."

Yennefer narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure we have many mutual acquaintances who are quadroons."

"He's not a quadroon."

"A quarter dwarf?"

"He's not of mixed blood, although that wouldn't be an issue." Triss felt the need to state that last part.

"So he's a non-mixed human who is only mostly hum- A _Witcher_!?" The look on Yennefer's face was pretty priceless. "My, you certainly have a type!"

"Now, to guess which one."

"There aren't that many left, dear. Eskel or Lambert. Or _Letho_?"

"Oh, gods, no! He would tear me in half! Have you seen how thick his arms are?"

"Mmm, remember that I traveled with him briefly after the Hunt. I've seen him bathe. His arms may be thick, yes, but the part of him that truly matters would not so much tear you in half as it would give you a tickle."

The reconciled friends laughed openly, buoyed by wine and a shared happiness at finding each other again.

"So that leaves two. Triss, tell me it's Eskel. Tell me you didn't stir up drama with Keira Metz just to get to Lambert."

"It's Eskel, Yenna. Ew, Lambert. Ew."

"Hear, hear. And I'm happy for you. Eskel is a good man."

"Thank you." Triss felt a blush on her cheeks at the thought of her budding relationship. "I'm happy, too."

"I presume he treats you well," Yennefer inquired with a touch of gravity.

"He does. Very well. We're actually really good together."

"Good. I'm glad you've found that in your life. Although I must say, this revelation means that the lot of us are two trysts away from completing a thoroughly incestuous foursome."

"Ugh, I hadn't thought about it like that. I'd prefer not to think about it like that again, thank you."

"Mind if I tell Geralt?"

"Not at all. He'll be happy for Eskel."

"And for you. He still considers you a dear friend, Triss. As do I."

Triss blushed again at that – out of embarrassment and shame more than anything. She let out a deep sigh. "I'm so sorry, Yenna. I've ruined so many friendships and relationships with my ambitions. I wish I could go back and undo everything I've done."

"First off, stop apologizing. We're past that now. Second, please do not wish for any changes to the past – at least not to that of my or Geralt's. Everything that has transpired has led to where we currently are, and now that the wounds of my last regret – that I had lost a dear friend – are on the mend, I would quite prefer everything to be exactly as is."

"Fair enough." A beat of silence, then, "Do you think… Do you think that I can come see your house? I keep imagining what this retired life of yours might look like, and I'd love to see it in person."

"Where are my manners? Triss, please join us for supper. Marlene always makes too much food, anyway." ("You have a cook?") "And if tonight interferes with your duties, please choose a date and we shall accommodate."

"Tonight is great. I need a break from _her_ , anyway."

"Tonight it is. I should probably warn Geralt so he doesn't blanch at the sight of us together."

"Poor guy." Triss snickered.

"Now, as I suddenly find that I have a slight schedule to adhere to, would you mind if I broach my final point?"

"The heavy one?"

"The very same."

Sigh. "Go ahead."

"Are you truly free, Triss?"

The question took Triss aback. She was afraid to answer. Yennefer must have read the look on her face like a book.

"Do not worry – there are no magical surveillances here. I've checked and reinforced. Nor are there any spies, and certainly not ones with loyalties to Philippa. She can't hear your answer."

Triss still was afraid to speak.

"Triss, I judge from the fear on your face that I have the answer to my question already. I understand that you have pledged your allegiance to a group founded on a worthy cause, but I question whether you have any say in how that cause is achieved. Or if you dare to raise your concerns against the methods of the group, whether you have any recourse from harsh punishment to silence your dissent."

Triss averted her eyes. Yennefer was hitting a very sore spot.

"Do not feel the need to respond. Do not, also, feel that I am pressuring you to act. I am merely expressing my concern for someone dear to my heart. I fear she is trapped and does not know how to escape. If I am wrong, I beg you'll forgive the ravings of a woman too long retired from issues of such a complex nature. However, should you agree with my assessment, should you moreover feel the need to confide, I shall see you at sundown at our estate – Corvo Bianco, just north of the Tournament Grounds. Otherwise, I shall still see you at sundown at our estate – Corvo Bianco, just north of the Tournament Grounds."

Triss nodded. "I'll be there."

"See you soon, Triss." Yennefer rose to her feet and touched Triss on the shoulder as she passed. Triss covered Yennefer's hand with her own. Then Yennefer was gone, leaving Triss to some troubling thoughts about her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt probably thought his face was unreadable, but even without resorting to magical powers, Yennefer knew that he had seen her in town today.

"Triss, huh?" A valiant attempt at appearing blasé.

"Yes, Triss. Come off it, Geralt, I know you saw me-"

"Yen, don't read my mind."

"I didn't. I'm reading your face. I really wasn't trying to conceal myself, either – I even thought maybe I would run into you in Beauclair. I'd received Triss's message so late that you'd ridden off before I had a chance to inform you. If I hadn't, I'd have let you use my portal."

She was rewarded with an affectionate poke.

"But yes, Triss. We… patched things up a bit. A lot, actually. It will still take a while for us to return to what we once were, but…" Yennefer of Vengerberg did not often trail off mid sentence, but she was a little embarrassed at how vulnerable she was making herself. Fortunately, Geralt knew that about her – he knew everything about her, and so he did not press.

"So, are you going to see her again? Before she leaves, I mean?"

"Yes. Tonight. Here, for supper."

"Wow. And you trust me enough to have her here?" Geralt was a bit of a dolt to ask it in such a way, but Yennefer knew he what he meant. She knew he would never have eyes for anybody but her again, just as she would never think of any man but Geralt anymore. Even so, she did not want to let an opportunity to tease him go to waste.

"Should I not, Geralt?" Yennefer affected a hurt expression. "Do I have a reason not to trust you?"

"What? No! Of course not! I mean, I just meant, I, because you-" Geralt was so lovely, so much fun.

"I'm only jesting," she admitted to his terrified face. "I know you've eyes for none but me."

Geralt growled. She loved when he made wolfish sounds that made him seem a tad wild. She would have told him so right then and there, too, but she knew that even the slightest hint at her arousal would result in the two of them spending a considerable amount of time atop a white unicorn, and Triss was due to arrive soon; it was nearly sundown.

"Does Marlene know?" Geralt changed the topic, for which Yennefer was glad, as she was starting to grow heated inside.

"She does. I informed her a while back. She's quite happy to be serving a guest, too."

"So I guess everything will be alright, then. No awkwardness? No fights?"

"Not unless you start something, Geralt. Though I must warn you lest your ego bruises: She is no longer about you. She is seeing someone. Someone you know."

"As long as it's not Dandelion, I'm happy for her." Yennefer spared a single 'Ha!' at the image in her mind.

"Eskel, actually."

"Really! Wow." Geralt breathed for a second. "Is she treating him well?"

Yennefer smiled inwardly at the concern Geralt held for his brother. He really was a lovely man. "You'll have to ask him personally, but she seems very happy – and I doubt that type of happiness is ever one sided."

"Damn! Look at us, Yen. All of us. Growing up!" Geralt adopted an expression that was surely meant to mimic fatherly pride but really made him look like an indecent old man instead. Yennefer did not tell him so – only kissed him softly because she loved every awkward thing about him.

"Don't ever change, my love," she smiled against his lips.

"Am I interrupting?" Triss's voice called from outside the threshold to the open door.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was a lovely affair. Triss had gleaned from her earlier conversation with Yennefer that life was pretty great for her friend, but she could not have guessed just how great. She was a little envious of Yennefer, in fact – not over Geralt, necessarily, but over their relationship. They were so open, so loving and good to one another, so surprisingly considerate of one another. Triss hadn't thought Yennefer would ever be capable of such a relationship, but she supposed her friend was right: Experiencing death then receiving a second chance likely changed a person fairly dramatically.

For his part, Geralt seemed to act pretty naturally, too. He asked a few questions about Eskel, and Triss was happy to answer, happier even to see Geralt's warm reactions. She expressed her hope that she could bring Eskel for a visit soon ("A double date, Yenna!"), though she secretly suspected that she may not see her friends anytime in the near future; what Yennefer had said about Triss's role with the Lodge had brought her to a difficult, even painful decision: She was leaving the Lodge.

Of course, one did not simply leave the Lodge, particularly if one was Triss Merigold: The counsel of no court and therefore the spy of every court. Triss guessed that she knew more of the Lodge's secrets than any other Sorceress not surnamed Eilhart, and there was no way Philippa would allow her to leave the Lodge carrying all of those secrets – even if Triss were to swear never to tell a soul. She faced a difficult road ahead, one whose direction she could not surmise, but she had made up her mind.

There was another decision Triss had made: She would keep her plans secret from Yennefer. It was her atonement. She knew that if anybody could sympathize and help her in her escape from the manacles of the Lodge, it was her old friend, but she resolved never to put Yennefer or her family in view of the Lodge again for her own purposes. Triss was better than that now, and besides, she needed to prove to herself that she was capable enough to solve her own problems.

She bade her hosts farewell shortly after dessert, citing late-night court duties in Beauclair. In truth, she wanted to leave before her thoughts became so loud that Yennefer heard them and offered to become her lifeline – an offer Triss was not sure she would have the strength to refuse. So it was with a wide smile but a heavy heart that she stepped through the orange light of her portal, wondering when or if she would be able to continue repairing her newly rediscovered friendship.

* * *

"Geralt, did you notice anything about Triss tonight?" Yennefer asked, undressing before bed.

Geralt had no idea what she meant by that, but he could sense danger in every potential answer he could possibly produce. So he grunted. Sometimes, if he just grunted, Yennefer would accept it as an appropriate response and continue speaking. He prayed to many gods that that was the case right now.

The gods listened.

"Don't misunderstand – I had a lovely time and thought the evening went quite well considering the history of all involved. I just sensed that she was holding something back."

Grunt. The gods were still on his side.

"There was something she was not telling us, don't you think?"

Grunt. The gods were gone.

"I can't decipher your guttural flatulence, Geralt. May I please have some verbal input instead?"

Sigh. "I'm sure she's fine, Yen. Probably just found out that Eskel has a thing for succubi." If he couldn't avoid the conversation, he hoped to at least keep it light.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You didn't hear it from me."

"Except where else would I have heard it from?"

"One of the many horny succubus friends of yours?" He laid some chum.

"You really get my goat." She took the bait.

"Well, I wouldn't want to toot my own horn." There were a few more in there, he was sure.

"Oh, but you so deserve to. For when you separate the sheep from the goat, there you will stand." Again with the goat.

"And you make me horny." Perfect transition. He got out of bed to pinch her on her sides, hoping to segue from a serious discussion about his ex-lover to a long romp with his current one.

"Not your best, Witcher." Yennefer seemed unmoved.

"Yeah, well, succubi are not half goat, so there's that," Geralt tried again to pinch her, knowing he was grasping at straws now.

"Be serious." She brushed off his hands. "I'm concerned for Triss. I think there is more to her role with the Lodge than she is letting on."

That got Geralt's attention. "What, like she was spying on us?"

"On the contrary. That she fears she is being spied on."

"By the Lodge?"

"Yes. I believe she is no longer working for Philippa of her own volition. I believe a certain degree of coercion is involved."

"How do you know this?"

"Just a theory."

"So speculation?"

"More like intuition. We've not been on good terms for a long time, but I know Triss. And I know Philippa."

"Triss would tell you."

"Would she?"

"If anyone can understand wanting to get away the Lodge, it's you. She knows that. You would be the first person she would come to."

"I suppose."

He kissed her on her forehead. "Yen, don't worry. Triss can take care of herself. In the meantime, I want to take care of you."

"Because I make you 'horny'?" Yennefer asked in blatant mockery. She was so sexy when she was sardonic.

"Come see for yourself."

Geralt hoped to take Yennefer's mind off of Triss for many reasons, not the least of which being he wanted her to have absolutely nothing to do with the Lodge. They were too happy now to get dragged back into that shit, and he would sooner choose to live inside a portal for the next full decade than to have Philippa Eilhart set her sights on his family again.

So he distracted her in the best way he knew how.

He climbed atop a white unicorn.


	4. Chapter 4

When Triss arrived back at her home in Novigrad, Eskel had just gotten out of the bath. He had taken four straight contracts while she was gone, and he knew beyond a doubt that he did not smell like a fresh spring daisy. River baths were not really baths if the river was septic.

So knowing that she was due home that evening per the letter delivered to him while he was resting in a ragged cave after a hunt, he rushed to get himself clean and acceptable for her. Even if she wasn't in the mood for sex, he wanted to be able to greet her with a proper embrace.

He heard his girl mucking about downstairs, presumably putting away her luggage; Triss was an exceeding tidy person, and she would not tolerate her living space otherwise – even if she was weary from her travels. Eskel wondered if she knew he was there, and he hoped that of all of the signs which could tip her off, it wouldn't be remnants of Witcher stench.

"Eskel? Is that you?" Triss called from below. Guess she did know he was there.

"Welcome home, babe! I'll be right down." He hurried to put on some clothes. He didn't want her to think that he had only one thing on his mind.

"That's okay. I'll come up to you." He heard her voice ascending the stairs. He had barely pulled on his trousers before she stepped into her bedchamber.

"Hi!" Eskel felt awkward. He was very excited to see Triss, but he didn't know how much to let it show. Sometimes, he was scared that he was too intense for her. To his delight, she returned his excitement by beaming at him in a way that made his heart knock against his chest.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively pulled her into a tight hug, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Glad you're back," he said genuinely. "How was Beauclair?" Triss rolled her eyes. "Fringilla was being her Fringilla self, huh?"

"I'd rather not think about that woman for a nice long while."

"Alright, then." He didn't want to press it. He chanced a quick kiss. She rewarded him with a coy smile that lit a small fire in his stomach.

"Are you going to get some time before your next assignment, at least?" He reached around her to grab the clean shirt that he had laid out on her bed before his bath. When Triss did not answer right away, he turned his eyes to her, a touch concerned. "Triss?"

"I… don't really want to think about that right now, either."

"Okay? Are you alright?"

"You'll never guess what I did in Toussaint, though." Eskel let her change the subject as he pulled on his shirt.

"What did you do, babe?" he asked once his face had resurfaced from beneath the fabric.

"I met with Yennefer."

Eskel was actually surprised. He didn't think those two women would ever get along again – or even want to. "Really? How is she? …Did she hurt you?"

Triss giggled. "No, Eskel. We made up. Talked it all out. It got heated at one point, but we resolved everything. I think we're going to be friends again."

"I'm glad for you," he lied. He didn't know Yennefer well, but from what he had seen of her, he didn't quite trust her.

Triss seemed to sense his thoughts.

"I know you're protective of your brother, but she's not who you think she is. Remember, you've only ever heard his side of the story. And Geralt… he was never really that diplomatic about her behind her back whenever they were broken up."

"Never thought I'd hear you take her side over his," Eskel said with slight jealousy. He was happy in this new relationship, but he'd never really gotten over the fact that his girlfriend had once been madly in love with his best friend.

"Eskel, not this again." She seemed to sense his thoughts – again. Sorceresses. "I told you, I don't care for Geralt anymore – not like that. In fact, I told him about us."

"You saw him?"

"I went to their house. Yenna invited me for supper. It was nice – really nice. Geralt asked after you a lot."

"Well, I'm happy you had a nice time." He tried to put on a brave face but decided to turn away, walking toward the window. He didn't want to appear the broody lover.

"Eskel," Triss followed him and put her arms around his torso, resting her face against his shoulder blade. "Do you want to know what I was thinking the whole time I was talking to Geralt?" Her hands found his. "The whole time I was talking to Geralt, I kept thinking about how I just wanted you to be there with me. I missed you."

Eskel melted at this. He turned around in her arms and stared into her eyes. "I missed you, too, babe." He gave her their second kiss of the night. He silently wished they could increase the frequency of those very soon in their relationship; he really enjoyed kissing her.

"Come to bed, hun," she said as she pulled him backwards. He didn't need to be told twice.

Eskel pulled at the knot holding Triss's traveling cloak to her neck and heard a satisfying 'thud' as the thick garment dropped on the floor. He enjoyed counting down the sounds it took to get to his prize. _Five more_ , he thought lazily to himself, starting to get lost in their heated movements.

There was a sudden disturbance in the air. Triss's megascope began to activate itself, and the voice of Philippa Eilhart could be heard talking to somebody on the other side, ending a conversation before she addressed herself to Triss. Eskel immediately started to step out of the room, knowing that Triss valued her professionalism – and being caught in the act with a man like him was a far cry from being professional.

To his great shock, Triss grabbed his wrist and signaled for him to stay. She then approached the megascope from the side, staying out of Philippa's view, and removed a crystal. Philippa did not have time to finish asking if Triss was there before the image was gone and the room sank into a dense, static silence.

"Triss?" This was not normal. Not at all. "Triss, is everything okay?"

Triss did not respond, but the look on her face gave him his answer.

"What's going on?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Why are you listening to Yennefer all of a sudden?" Eskel's voice boomed. He had the type of voice that took very little effort to become very loud.

"Shh! Calm down, Eskel!" Triss didn't want an angry boyfriend on top of her other troubles. "Stop yelling!"

"I'm not yelling," Eskel yelled, then ostensibly caught himself. "I'm not yelling," he repeated softly. Triss suppressed a smile for one of the many qualities she found endearing in Eskel. She would tell him that later. Right now, she needed to sort her head out.

"I listened to Yennefer because she's right. I can't go on like this."

"Like what?"

"Like Philippa's puppet."

"You've never felt this way before. Why now, after talking to her, do you suddenly feel like this, hmm?" Eskel must have felt that he was making a good point, but his tone only irritated Triss.

"Why are you making this about Yennefer?"

"Because I don't trust her."

"And you trust Philippa?"

"I-" Eskel sputtered. That seemed to do the trick.

"Eskel, can't you see it? I'm constantly living in fear of crossing Philippa the wrong way now. She's always been an ambitious person, but recently, her methods have started to get out of hand. She's… she's even starting to talk about inciting pogroms!"

"Against her own kind?"

"To 'strengthen the brethren of mages'. She thinks that if mages feel enough persecution, they'll stop thinking in terms of political borders and band together as a race, much like the elves, and form a powerful reserve army ready to fight against any provocation against their own kind."

"Shit…"

"I mean, she's only talking about it right now. It hasn't gotten to the point where any concrete plans have been laid out or even discussed. But I'm scared that if she decides it's the best course of action, and I don't carry out her… orders, then I'll have to face punishment. I don't want to have to choose between fucking inciting pogroms and facing punishment, Eskel. I didn't fight this long and this hard against this many enemies just to end up as some dictator's little slave!" She sat down hard on her bed, simultaneously furious and deflated.

"Of course not." Eskel lowered himself next to her and put a calming arm around her shoulder. "And nobody else in the Lodge thinks what she's doing is fucked up?"

"Margarita did. That's why she left the Lodge to go work on restoring Aretuza – she wanted the future of magic to be a hopeful one rather than a ruthless one. But I can't do the same."

"Why not?"

"For one, Rita left well before she became too entrenched in Philippa's new doctrines for the Lodge. She must have sensed the direction we were headed in and decided to remove herself before it was too late. For another, I know too much. Philippa's always used me as a bit of a spy, and she won't simply allow me to leave considering how much of the Lodge's secrets I hold." The truth of this brought cold fear to Triss's heart.

"So, what can we do?"

"Eskel, I'm touched that you want to involve yourself, but I can't let you-"

"Don't. You can't just let me in then shut me out. I'm in this with you now." His sincerity struck something deep inside her, and she could not help but relent against his devotion to her. "Triss, we need to figure out what to do. Because you're right; you can't stay in the Lodge if it's going to be like this."

Triss sighed. She knew he was right, but she had no answer for him. "I don't know. I have no idea how to leave the Lodge safely at this point."

"Can't you ask for Margarita's help? Or Yennefer's? They've both left the Lodge safely – I'm sure they can help you."

"Yenna would help. I'm certain of it. But I can't do that to her again. If Philippa sees that Yennefer is helping me run from her, she'll come after Yenna and her family. I can't do that to them."

"What about Margarita?"

She was suddenly overcome with anger over an insult she was not sure he had meant but had hurt her nonetheless. She threw his arm off her shoulder.

"Eskel, stop! You seem to think I'm some mindless little girl who can't help but either get manipulated by all these other big bad Sorceresses or need to hide behind their skirts. No, everything happening to me right now is my own doing. Everything that's _ever_ happened to me has been my own doing. And it's time I get myself out of my own mess. I'm tired of relying on other people, and I'm tired of _you_ telling me that I should!" Triss's own voice had gotten heated, and when she finished speaking, her words hung in the air like an echo. She felt tears welling in her eyes.

Eskel looked stung. "I was just trying to be supportive," he mumbled defensively.

"Well, try harder, or try differently, because this isn't helping!" Triss was vaguely aware of her hurtful tone, but she was too upset to stop herself.

"Should… Should I go, then?" Eskel sounded so wounded, though he made no move to leave.

Triss sighed again. "No. No, I'm sorry. I'm just…" She trailed off. She didn't know the right words to describe the type of hopeless dread she was feeling.

Eskel put both arms around her and brought her into his chest. It was nice how much better she felt just being in his embrace.

"It's okay, babe. We'll figure it out together. Unless you tell me to, I won't leave your side. And even if you do, I doubt I would."

Triss smiled, genuinely touched. Eskel really was a good man, and finding him had been her own doing, too. At least her list of accomplishments wasn't all bad.

She kissed him softly. "Thank you," she said against his lips. She felt them smile against hers. "Thank you for being so good to me."

"I'm always here for you. Anything for you."

She kissed him once more, and she heard him moan almost imperceptibly. "You're right, Eskel. I'll- We'll figure something out. For now, I just need you to help me with one thing."

"What's that?" His voice was slowly turning husky.

"Take my mind off of it." She dropped fully onto her bed.

Eskel seemed only too happy to oblige.


	6. Chapter 6

"She is both insubordinate and ungrateful!" Philippa was livid. "This is pure treason, and she will not get away with it!" If Triss thought she was anything remotely resembling clever for cutting off her megascope connection, she was dead wrong. The will of the Lodge of Sorceresses and, by extension, its leader Philippa Eilhart were not to be trifled with, particularly not by one lone Sorceress with no source of backing outside of the very Lodge that she was currently in contempt of.

"Even if she's gone into hiding, I'm sure that we can find her," the projected image of Fringilla said half-heartedly. Philippa knew that Fringilla and Triss had never liked one another, and that Fringilla would be fine with seeing Triss desert the Lodge if it meant they never had to work together again, but that was unacceptable to Philippa; since Margarita's decision to direct her focus on Aretuza, the Lodge, once twelve members strong, was down to only four real members: Philippa, Fringilla, Keira, and Triss. The elves were a part of the council in name, but Philippa did not trust that they put the welfare of magic before that of their own race, so she could only consider Francesca and Ida no more than key affiliates.

Which meant that without Triss, the Lodge would be down to three. And she knew that this motley trio of herself, Keira, and Fringilla was more likely to find success in a fisstech-funded brothel than in the political theatre, particularly without their nimble spy. The fact that all three Sorceresses held official court titles meant that their mobility and intelligence-gathering capabilities were limited, a crippling dilemma solved only by the presence of Triss Merigold.

Philippa could not let her get away. She was too valuable to their organization, and Philippa would be damned if she allowed the Lodge's causes – the welfare and the future of magic – to die yet again.

"Keira," Philippa pointedly ignored Fringilla's dispassionate tone, "I want you to focus on finding her. Geomancy, haruspicy, and any other locating spells you might have in your repertoire. But do it in absolute secrecy; we don't want Vernon Roche finding out what you're up to when he has favorable ties to her. The last thing we need is to lose our foothold on a developing leader."

"I can do that, Philippa," Keira replied with something resembling resistance in her tone. Philippa wanted to reach into the megascope and slap her. "But what are you planning to do with her if you catch her?"

" _We_ , Keira," Philippa corrected. She was growing inexpressibly weary of everyone questioning her. Couldn't these idiots see that she was fighting for _their_ future, for _their_ welfare? "When _we_ catch her. You're as much a part of this as myself or Fringilla."

"Okay, then. When _we_ catch her. What are you planning to do?"

"If you're worried that I will kill her or anything ludicrous like that, rest assured, I am no witch. I merely wish to show her that she is misguided in her thinking, that her interests are really best served by the interests of the Lodge, and that she is necessary to our survival. I may need to hurt her a little, but I will do nothing you ladies are not yourselves familiar with."

"Fine by me," she heard Fringilla reply. Philippa would be satisfied with her compliance if it weren't laced with complacence.

"Alright." At least Keira seemed to have bought in. "I can live with that."

"Good," Philippa spat curtly. This conversation was exhausting. "Report back to me as soon as you find anything."


	7. Chapter 7

Yennefer had never thought that having dirt on her hands could be gratifying or enjoyable. In fact, in the early days of her mentorship over Ciri, whenever the young Witcheress-Sorceress would appear from whatever boyish activity she invariably found herself engrossed in, Yennefer would always be slightly repulsed by how much dirt Ciri would have on her hands. Those fingernails had never been clean for a single day in Ellander, no matter how much admonishment Yennefer had wasted her breath on.

But there was something different – almost enchanting – about getting her own hands dirty for the purpose of revitalizing the vineyard that both she and Geralt had become so fond of. When she had awoken that morning to news from a green-faced Barnabas-Basil that some workers on the estate had gotten ill over some bad meat, she had decided to take their place in the fields while they convalesced. After all, how hard could it be?

It turned out that while her dexterous fingers were unsurprisingly adept at picking ripened grapes off of existing vines, she had a lot to learn in the ways of tilling and seeding in hopes of extending the vineyard to the more barren parts of their land. She received some patient advice from an elderly woman, Martine, who was clearly a veteran in the trade, and Yennefer found herself content to once again be a pupil under the tutelage of a highly accomplished mistress – no matter that her mistress's field of expertise produced something only slightly grander than grape juice. She had even discovered that Martine was both sharp witted and an ironic lover of terrible romance novels – someone Yennefer saw as almost a kindred spirit in her life of leisurely retirement.

Adopting new hobbies and making new friends – these were things that Yennefer had thought to be lost to her since her early days as a fledgling Sorceress many, many decades ago. She was almost embarrassed at how sappily nice her life was at the moment.

Except she knew that part of the reason for this entire exercise was simply to find a way to occupy her mind.

Ever since Triss had visited for dinner some four months past, Yennefer had not been able to shake the feeling that something bad was happening to her friend. She had tried reaching out to Triss – once via megascope and two more times with a kestrel-delivered letter, but she had found no success. In fact, her second kestrel had returned with the letter still intact – seal untouched, recipient clearly not located.

Geralt had tried to reassure her that Triss was a highly capable Sorceress, but to Yennefer, that was not nearly a good enough reason to rest her mind. No amount of talent and ability could promise safety from tragedy – Rivia was the most painfully perfect example. As a matter of fact, she knew that Geralt did not actually believe in his own staunch optimism; he, too, was well aware of what could befall Triss if she had crossed the Lodge the wrong way. Yennefer understood that he was only trying to protect her – to placate her so that she did not cast herself and her family directly in Philippa's aim again. And while Yennefer appreciated Geralt's perspective, she knew it was only a matter of time before they both decided to throw caution to the wind and go searching after a friend to whom, despite absolutely everything, they owe some truly great debts to.

So when Geralt arrived home that evening, startling Yennefer from her musings of whether the dirt caked on her fingers would interfere with geolocating spells by announcing that he had found Eskel wandering near their home, her heart both leapt and sank.

"Eskel," she greeted after composing herself, "what news?"

Eskel approached apprehensively, and Yennefer detected a familiar hint of mistrust in his eyes. She ignored it, as she always did. "Yennefer, Triss needs your help."

Her stomach dropped, but she did not let it show. "Where is she?"

"She's gone into hiding. After your talk with her, she decided to run away from Philippa. She can't use magic, she travels in secrecy, and she has nobody except me to help her. And… I'm not enough."

"You're right." His head snapped up at her. "I do not mean that as an insult, but you are right that you cannot take on the Lodge alone. Triss is an exceedingly competent Sorceress and you a highly capable Witcher, but up against Philippa Eilhart, you would not stand a chance. Not to mention that Philippa would have the likes of Keira Metz, Fringilla Vigo, Margarita Laux-Antille, and the elven Sorceresses on her side. There would be no battle if it came down to a fight; there would only be obliteration."

"Then why did you encourage her to do it?" His voice grew accusatory, and she grew defensive.

"Because I did not anticipate for her to be so prideful as to not ask for my help, and foolish for making a direct escape. Had she come to me as I had hoped, we could have planned a way to extricate her safely – if over time. But suddenly making herself a fugitive casts her fully as a target."

Yennefer was expecting an angry retort in defense of Triss's honor, but instead, Eskel took a long breath and regrouped himself. She found she admired his unshakable decorum in spite of his long-held dislike for her. "What can we do, then?"

His regained calmness settled her. "It is hard to say, as I have been very far removed from the dynamics of the Lodge for quite some time now. However, I believe we may have recourse. Margarita is someone to whom we can plead for mercy. For as long as I have known her, Rita has always been a fair individual – the only person who can hope to balance Philippa's obsessive ambitions. I can't imagine that has changed much." Even as she said it, Yennefer did not know how much good it would do; Rita was only one voice, and Yennefer had a couple of distinct memories in which Rita had spoken up on her and Ciri's behalf, only to be overridden by the other Sorceresses. In other words, their best option was not a good option.

"Maybe she hasn't changed, but the Lodge has. Margarita's out. Triss said she left early on to focus on restarting that school of hers."

This took Yennefer aback. Rita was out of the Lodge? To reopen Aretuza? It changed the landscape completely – not only for Triss, but for… everything. "You're sure of this? Margarita Laux-Antille is no longer a member of the Lodge of Sorceresses. You're sure that's what she said?"

"Yes?" Apparently, Yennefer's own surprise took Eskel off guard, as well. "Why, Yennefer? Does that mean something?"

"It means everything. Eskel, I assume that your presence implies Triss is at most a day's ride away? No, do not tell me where she is. The fewer people who know, the better. Only tell her to meet me in three days, at the hour and the place where she and I once spent a night together – don't ask me what that means, you lunks; I haven't the time to explain. I leave now with important business to take care of before Triss joins me, and you two Witchers will meet us in Gors Velen in five days. At the place when we first said it to each other." The last part she addressed solely and with slight tenderness to Geralt.

"Yen-" Geralt started to protest, though she did not know if he was more concerned about her involvement in the matter, or about his own lack of involvement in the matter for the next five days. Either way, it was futile. She was resolved.

"Geralt, do you trust me?"

He resigned with a sigh. "Of course. Just… be safe." He put an arm on her waist to pull her closer. "Please."

She planted a chaste kiss on his lips – a promise of better things to come. "Always. And you, too, my love."

"Are you not going to tell us your plan?" Eskel inquired, and she heard his tone of mistrust once again. She chose to ignore it this time as well.

Instead, she turned and raised her arms, making to open a portal for herself before she decided to impart one last word. "Eskel," she said without facing him, "you did the right thing by coming to me. But understand that you have done so at the injury of Triss's pride. How you choose to repair that is up to you, but heed my advice: Do not take such an injury lightly."

At that, she rent a tear in the space before her and stepped in, ready to execute the first part of her plan.


	8. Chapter 8

Margarita Laux-Antille was poring over piles of parchment riddled with runes that had been written, crossed out, rewritten, and magically altered in their author's attempt to make some semblance of sense, but to no avail. Reopening Aretuza was nearly impossible considering what she had to work with – or, more precisely, what she lacked to work with.

The money required for the physical renovations to the building aside, Margarita could not see a way to structure the programs of the school successfully. Radovid's pogroms had resulted not only in the tragic deaths of many of the school's pupils, but had also depleted its teaching force – which had been tenuous to begin with since the first closing of Aretuza after the Thanedd Coup. And without the most qualified Sorceresses to help mold the next generations of mages, Margarita's ambitions for Aretuza would forever amount to nothing but scratches on slowly yellowing parchment. And what ambitions she had for this storied institution!

In Margarita's mind, Philippa was a well-meaning individual with terrible vision – no pun intended. It was true that the future of magic was unstable and that even the current state of magic was in disrepair; mages were simply not respected as equals by their non-magical counterparts, but rather reduced to being viewed as rogues and renegades to keep at a distance in fear of the unknown – if not persecuted outright. But while Philippa was staunch in her belief that building up a reserve of might was the way to ensure the progress of magic, Margarita knew that the true path toward achieving that goal was through education.

And not just any education; the pupils that Aretuza had turned out in the past included some notable names, sure, but it had also failed on many fronts. For one, it had failed to produce enough Sorceresses of character and leadership who could enter the political realms on equal footing to crowned heads, who could be a figurehead for denizens of the magical sphere. It had even failed to yield enough Sorceresses with expertise in practical fields to establish mages as a necessary cog in society. Without an abundance of such individuals in their midst, no matter how mighty an army of mages may be, they could never be a cohesive population working and growing in harmony with the rest of the world.

She picked up a piece of parchment outlining her plans for the overarching curriculum of the academy and let out a deflated sigh. There were so many courses she dreamed for Aretuza to offer – ranging from first-year basics such as civil ethics and geopolitical theory, to practical internships in specialties of sorcery such as healing and architectural magic, to advanced mentored research opportunities offered to only the most qualified adepts such as spell crafting and artifact creation. These were the pathways to producing truly distinguished and deserving Sorceresses that the magical world needed at its helm – to create a population of mages who would not drift through life coasting on their abilities to manipulate nature as a false sense of superiority, but who would forge their own undeniable places in society.

But she had no instructors for more than half of these courses and, worse, no plan for how to recruit for them. Without Tissaia, she didn't even have another director to oversee the school with her – and she knew that such an ambitious program was not something she could handle alone. With a growl of frustration, Margarita banged her head against the table, only to curse herself for her stupidity when her actions were rewarded with a painful bump on her forehead. She had even gotten her parchment stuck to her face for her efforts. She could picture herself now: The perfect image of hopelessness. So pathetic.

As she went to peel the offending sheet off of her cheek, she heard a resolute knock from her entryway – a familiar knock which suggested the visitor considered composure to be far more important than urgency when calling on a host. She got up, crossed the room, and opened the door, already half-knowing who she would see behind it. She was not mistaken.

"I think you and I can help each other," Yennefer stated in lieu of a greeting.

Margarita smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

"You went to her!?" Triss was clearly too tired and too hungry to throw fists at Eskel, but she seemed like she very much wanted to. "You were supposed to go get food for us, but instead, you went behind my back, directly disregarded my requests, and went to Yennefer? Why, Eskel? Why would you do that!?"

Eskel recoiled with every charge thrown at him. The echoes created by the cavern they were hiding in did nothing to help. "Because I thought that's what you needed!"

"What I needed was food. And something soft to sleep on. And maybe a bottle of strong vodka if you wanted to spoil me. I didn't need you going over my head to interfere with my business!"

Despite Yennefer's warning earlier, Eskel had not thought Triss would be this angry. He had obtained a key ally in their plight; how was that not a good thing?

"Don't we want all the help we can get right now? Babe, we've been on the lam for over four months, and the only plan we have is where to run to next. How long are we going to keep doing this for?"

"Leave, then, if you're having such a bad time!" He hated when she did that – how pushing him away was so often her go-to when she was angry.

"Triss, it's not that. I'm a Witcher – I can handle living like this for much longer than four months at a time, believe me. I'm just worried about you."

"But not worried about my dignity, right? Since you seem to have no problems disrespecting my wishes." He was starting to lose his composure.

"Your wishes, Triss? What do wishes matter if you're caught – or worse?"

"Because I would rather die trying to solve my own problems than live having to always hide behind another Sorceress's skirt, and if you can't understand that, then leave!"

Eskel snapped.

"Stop telling me to leave, Triss! Stop pushing me away! Or do you actually _want_ me to go? Because I love you, but maybe you don't love me back?"

There was a terrible silence that followed his outburst, where the echoes of his final three words resounded against the cavern walls. Eskel saw an expression of utter shock in Triss's eyes, and it took him a moment to realize that it was not because he had raised his voice; it was because this was the first time he had told her how he really felt about her. He cursed inwardly at the horrible timing of it.

They stared at each other for a while, and Eskel felt frighteningly vulnerable. Part of him wanted to grant her request, to turn and run away – lick his wounds in a place that was safe from her coldness – but he knew he could never bring himself to leave her. He really had meant it; he loved her.

"Triss…" He wanted to apologize for making it awkward for her, for putting her in such a difficult situation, but he didn't know the right words.

"I'm sorry, Eskel."

His heart broke a little. But at least she wasn't telling him to go, so there was that.

"It's okay, Triss. You don't have to say anything. Just please don't push me away if you need my help."

She crossed over to him and pulled him into her arms. He was still hurt, but he could never resist her. "I won't. I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I do need you. I just… I didn't realize that you…"

"Yeah," he smiled ruefully.

Triss kissed him tenderly, and for one thrilling moment, he thought maybe she would say the words back to him. Instead, she kept him in a painful state of limbo – half heartbroken, half hopeful.


	10. Chapter 10

Keira had been searching for Triss Merigold for months now, and every time she thought she was getting close, she would only end up finding traces of where Triss had once been but was no longer staying. Triss was apparently being meticulously careful, abstaining from any use of magic whatsoever so as not to give away even the slightest hints of her location. Keira had even tried to enlist the help of Lambert in hopes of tracking her through more physical means, but her idiot half-boyfriend of a man was entirely unenthused about pursuing his friend's lady – particularly when that lady was someone he was also quite fond of.

If she was being honest with herself, Keira, too, was reluctant in her endeavors; she had always liked and respected Triss, and if Triss had a reason to run, Keira wanted to be able to give her the room to do so. However, Keira also knew that Philippa was right; the state of magic was at risk, its future at stake. She wanted to contribute to preserving it, if not for progeny then at least for herself – someone who still had well over a century of life to live yet – and as far as she was concerned, Philippa Eilhart was the only person who knew how to achieve that aim. So if Philippa demanded that Triss be brought back and forced to work for the Lodge, who was Keira to argue?

She approached a cavern on the Lyrian bank of the Yaruga. Her geomancy had put Triss squarely in this area, but geomancy was a slow process whose results were often obsolete unless its target was relatively stationary – which Triss clearly was not. This cavern was no exception.

Keira threw up her hands in defeat and kept them raised, preparing to open a portal for herself, when she saw two familiar figures riding north hurriedly – one of whom being none other than Triss's boyfriend. This was just as well: If she couldn't find Triss herself, then surely Eskel would lead her to the Sorceress. She would simply need to follow them.

Keira dropped her arms and cast an invisibility illusion on herself instead; she would follow the Witchers at a distance, since, as far as she knew, Geralt still had lingering doubts about not offing her when he had the chance.

* * *

"It doesn't bother you that she doesn't tell you what she's doing?" After his fight with Triss, Eskel found himself resentful. He was trying not to take it out on Geralt, but voicing his concerns gave him release. "I know it's usually none of my business, but this time, it is."

"No." Geralt seemed to be running short on words for Eskel's persistence, but Eskel pressed on.

"Why, Wolf? It's like she doesn't respect you enough to let you know what's on her mind. Like she thinks you're not worth the few seconds it would take to just explain herself." He ignored an uncomfortable feeling that he was not actually talking about Geralt and Yennefer.

"Not true." It sounded as if Geralt genuinely believed his own words, but he did not expound his reasoning.

"So how do you explain why she's always keeping you in the dark?"

"Stop, Eskel."

Maybe he'd gone too far. "I'm sorry, brother. I didn't mean-"

"No, really. Stop." Geralt pulled Roach up short. "Someone's following us."

Eskel pulled up his own Scorpion next to Geralt. Both Witchers strained their senses to listen for a possible enemy. His medallion started to tingle against his skin, and he knew that Geralt's was doing the same. They dismounted and readied themselves for a fight.

"Peace, men." A familiar voice came from behind a hill. "It's only me."

Before Eskel saw the emerald eyes and ashen hair emerge in the space before them, Geralt had already placed the voice. "Ciri? What are you doing here?"

"Tracked you. I went to Corvo Bianco for a visit and found you and Yennefer both gone. Waited a full day and you didn't return, so I got concerned – decided to follow your prints. Hello, Eskel."

"Hi, Ciri. Listen, we're doing something that's probably not safe. You should go back to the vineyard to wait for your parents." Eskel saw too late that Geralt had been frantically shaking his head at him in a severe warning.

"You're joking, right?" Ciri approached menacingly, pointing a finger at him as if in malediction. "After everything, Eskel, do you still believe me to be a little girl incapable of running the Pendulum? What is the matter with you? If there is danger that awaits either Geralt or Yennefer, you cannot rightly expect me to sit back and wait for them while they face it alone. Truly, were you hit on the head by a beast or a man? Because you cannot actually be this dense."

Eskel sputtered, unsure of how to respond to the girl who was brought up as a princess before being raised in the ways of Yennefer's sharp tongue. Ciri pushed past him to greet Geralt with an embrace.

"Hi, Geralt. At least you're not being an idiot."

"Nope. Know my girls too well to put my foot in my mouth like that." Geralt spared a sympathetic look at Eskel.

"Ciri, I didn't mean to offend you. I just-" He saw Geralt shaking his head again, and he managed to stop himself this time.

Ciri waited a moment to see if Eskel would speak more. When he didn't, she nodded her head in approval before approaching him.

"That's better. Hello again, Eskel. Sorry we did not start on a good foot. It's nice to see you." She gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, seemingly having already forgotten her earlier ire. Eskel decided he was painfully lacking in knowledge about the emotional tendencies of young women – or women in general.

"So, where are you off to?" Ciri inquired.

"Gors Velen. We're meeting Yen and Triss there."

"Per Yennefer's plans?"

"Who else?"

"Alright, let's go, then." Ciri summoned Kelpie, and she and Geralt both mounted their horses. Eskel followed suit, though he couldn't help but notice that Ciri, just like Geralt, did not question what Yennefer's plans were in the least – rather, she seemed content to follow them blindly. It felt unnatural for a Witcher to do so, and he expressed this to them.

"I hate to be the voice of negativity, but I'm still unclear why you guys just go along with everything she says so willingly when she won't tell you anything. Doesn't seem like the prudent thing to do, especially as a Witcher." Geralt, once again, only grunted in response, but Ciri appeared to be much more amenable to discussion.

"Do you not trust her, Eskel?"

He decided to be honest. "Sorry, but not really." Eskel braced himself for another tongue-lashing, but Ciri seemed unperturbed – understanding, even.

"You don't trust her methods or her intentions?"

Eskel thought about it. "Her methods, I guess. She's always proven me wrong for doubting her intentions. It's just a little hard following blind orders."

"I can see why you would be wary of simply doing everything she told you to without knowing the purpose behind your own actions – I can also see how you might even feel disrespected. Believe me, Geralt and I have both struggled with this in the past. However, we've come to understand that Yennefer does things this way not out of disrespect or disdain, but out of a pragmatism that is borderline pathological."

"'Pathological' is an… interesting word to describe her."

"The way she thinks is this: Everybody believes they know best, and if they understand the full role of their actions, they're more likely to question whether those actions are indeed the best to take. Which, then, would hamper the plans that she has devised to the very last detail, resulting in a waste of time and energy – possibly spoiling the results altogether. So rather than chance such a tedious and potentially ruinous process occurring, she decides the optimal amount to divulge to each individual, and allows them no more and no less information than is necessary."

It made some sense, but it was still strange. Ciri seemed to be sympathetic to this sentiment, too.

"It can be frustrating at times, and it certainly takes some getting used to, but let me ask you this, Eskel: Do you believe that Yennefer will help you achieve your aim in Gors Velen?"

"Yes," he responded without a second thought, surprising himself.

"And there, you have your answer for why Geralt and I are happy to do what she asks. It is very rare that Yennefer lets us down. I can think of only one instance when it has happened to me, and I think her failure shook her far more than it did me." Eskel assumed Ciri was referring to Thanedd. "And Yennefer is one to learn thoroughly from her failures, as I am sure you can surmise."

"Alright, that's fair enough," he conceded. "I'm still concerned she doesn't treat you all that well, though, Wolf." This last part he let slip, and he immediately regretted it. However, it was not met with offense whatsoever.

Geralt allowed Ciri to answer this one for him, too. "That's because you haven't been around these two lovesick idiots much lately."


	11. Chapter 11

Triss slowly approached the silhouette of her longtime friend sitting under a billowing aspen, staring either at the waters of the Yaruga or the rising moon behind it. She knew she did not need to announce her arrival.

"Hello, Triss," Yennefer said without turning to her.

"I didn't want to involve you, Yenna," Triss responded in lieu of a greeting. Yennefer remained silent, waiting for Triss to join her on the grass. Triss did. "You weren't supposed to be part of this. You or your family."

It was a while before Yennefer spoke. "And I have greatly mixed feelings about that. I am certainly grateful that you would choose to put my family's safety above your own, but I am concerned that you took your precaution to an extreme. This is not a fight that either of us could hope to win without aid. You knew that, yet you chose such a foolish path anyway." Triss jolted, but she knew Yennefer was right. This sudden need to prove herself could end up being her downfall – hers and Eskel's. 'Foolish' was the perfect word for it. "And I am a little slighted that you don't see your own importance to me – that I couldn't live with myself if I had just abandoned you to these dangers you've subjected yourself to."

Triss sighed. She understood perfectly what Yennefer meant by every word. She knew that she was now a place in her life where she would feel the exact same way if the situation were reversed, so she did not challenge her friend. She did not have the strength to do so to begin with.

"What do I do, Yenna?" She reached out, finally relenting to the lifeline that she had been denying herself.

"You need to reinvent yourself, Triss. Change your path completely; redirect your devotion and ambition onto something that you have always refused to be a part of because you considered it beneath you even though, in truth, it is grander than all of us."

"What's that?"

"Education, Triss. It's time you finally became a teacher."


	12. Chapter 12

Geralt got to the clearing in time to see Triss and Yennefer dismount, apparently only having just arrived themselves. He saw a third figure approach from behind the two women and, for a wild second, thought that Yennefer was in danger. Then the figure took off her hood, revealing the kind features of Margarita Laux-Antille.

"Mother!" Ciri leapt from Kelpie to the group of women in a Blink, wrapping Yennefer in a tight embrace. Yennefer only allowed her surprise to show for a brief flash.

"Of course you came, daughter. I won't ask how you knew. I'm just glad to see you," Yennefer said after they released each other.

"I am a little angry I was not informed of this in the first place, but I choose to forgive you."

"How very generous of you, though you're surely aware it was never really a choice." Yennefer gently brushed a stray strand of ashen hair behind Ciri's ear before focusing her gaze on Geralt.

He approached her wordlessly and pulled her into him. It did not matter that they had only been apart for five days, or that there were many eyes on them, or even that Ciri was snickering unabashedly ("See, Eskel? Told you they're gross together!"). It only mattered that his Yen was safe and in his arms. She held him in a way that told him she felt exactly the same.

"Are you well, my love?" Yennefer breathed, and he felt his heart do a flip. "No injuries on the way here?"

With his arm around Triss's shoulder in a much more modest show of affection, Eskel responded for Geralt. "We're good, Yennefer. Thanks for taking care of Triss. And Ciri, you're right about them."

"Cirilla, will you come stand next to me?" Margarita reached out a hand to Ciri. "That way, I won't feel alone in my awkwardness as these couples make like they're beginning a mating ritual." Ciri went to greet Margarita with a warm hug.

Geralt, feeling a little chastised, reluctantly let Yennefer go. Yennefer planted one last kiss on his lips before suddenly adopting an entirely different manner, getting down to business, barking orders at the group.

"Eskel, Geralt, Ciri, we will need you to stand with Triss. Eskel, you are responsible for defending her from behind. Geralt and Ciri, from either side. Do not engage unless it is in defense. Triss, you understand your role. Rita and I will do the talking until you feel it appropriate to take over."

To Geralt's surprise, Eskel complied with his order without the slightest sign of resistance; he was even the first to his position. The three Witchers moved up to Triss, forming a four-faced battle formation.

"That looks as good as it's going to get. Triss, are you ready?"

"Yenna," Triss spoke for the first time. Geralt heard both trepidation and courage in her voice. "I know you wanted me to use my magic to draw Philippa here, but I don't think that will be necessary."

"I believe you're right, my dear," Yennefer said agreed a malicious smile.

"Come out at once!" Margarita chimed in. "Show yourself, now, Keira Metz!"


	13. Chapter 13

"Peace!" Keira shouted with her hands in the air, attempting to sidestep any unnecessary violence. She knew she would likely prove the loser in a duel with any of the individuals standing before her – much less all six at once. She also had no chance of safely opening a portal within the time it took for a Witcher or an accomplished Sorceress to strike her. Talking was her only way out. "No need to attack. I come in peace!"

"Bullshit," Eskel spat, unsheathing his steel sword. "You're here on Philippa's orders."

"Yes, but that does not mean I intend to start anything."

"It is a shame," Yennefer answered, "that we do not believe you."

"Yennefer, I promise, I'm not here to stir trouble."

"But you are here to arrest Triss," Margarita countered, "for 'treason against the Lodge'?"

Keira blushed with a slight feeling of shame over Margarita's words. She made them sound so ridiculous. "That's not untrue." There was no point in denying it.

"Well, it won't happen," Yennefer warned before lifting her hands in a stance that Keira knew she was right to be fearful of. "Keira, you're either with us or against us. I suggest you choose wisely."

"Let's say I choose to side with you," she rushed out, scared but unwilling to simply yield, "I can't very well help Triss escape or, worse, hurt Philippa. She's the only person fighting for the future of our kind!"

"That's not true," Margarita responded. "Philippa Eilhart is far from the only person to care about the future of magic."

Keira found it difficult to argue that line of reasoning with Margarita Laux-Antille.

"And we neither ask you to aid Triss's escape nor to hurt Philippa," Yennefer added.

"So what, then?" Keira asked hesitantly. "What will you have me do?"

"Tell Philippa everything," Yennefer answered. "Go to her and tell her that we are here, and that we want to talk – preferably peacefully."

"Is-"

"It's not an ambush," Yennefer cut her off with her infamous impatience. "Now, go to Philippa."

"But what-"

"Just do as she says, Keira!" Eskel yelled in an unnecessarily loud voice. Keira noticed that Geralt and Yennefer both gave him a surprised look.

"Alright," she relented. "Just… don't attack me while I'm opening my portal."


	14. Chapter 14

"Think they'll actually come back?" Eskel asked to anybody listening.

"Sooner than you think," Yennefer replied. "Just be ready. Philippa is both powerful and paranoid; even though we've stated that this is not an ambush, she may still come through with spells blazing."

Yennefer had no sooner finished her sentence than a hole was rent open in the space before her. From the corner of his eye, Eskel saw her throw up a shielding spell in the nick of time, deflecting a blast whose force was so powerful it managed to knock her on her back despite her defense. She rolled swiftly onto her feet, ready to dodge the next attack.

"Yen!"

"I'm fine. Stay in position," Yennefer hissed through gritted teeth.

Two more beams of light shot through the portal, though they were not well aimed; an innocent willow tree was cut in half, and the grass between Yennefer and Margarita exploded into a small crater, but there were no victims otherwise.

"Stop this, Philippa," Margarita shouted at the portal. "Come and talk. We only wish to talk."

Several moments passed before Eskel saw Philippa Eilhart step out of the portal, looking around in scrutiny. He did a double take when another Philippa came up behind the first, the original dissipating like mist. He belatedly registered the illusion charm the Sorceress had cast out of caution.

Keira Metz followed after the real Philippa. The light of the portal then produced the form of Fringilla Vigo before finally disappearing. The night air descended into a stifling silence, punctuated only by Yennefer's slightly labored breathing. Philippa stood facing Yennefer and Margarita while Keira and Fringilla circled the Witchers and Triss as if they were prowling. Eskel was waiting for a pin drop to trigger a bloody battle scene.

"Well?" Philippa was the first to speak.

"We wish to discuss something with you, Philippa," Margarita replied. "A proposal."

"The Lodge is not in the habit of negotiating with traitors."

"Traitors to what?" Yennefer challenged.

"To your own kind, Yennefer. If you are not with us, you are against us." Eskel briefly wondered if Philippa was purposely using Yennefer's own words against her, or if the two Sorceresses were just uncannily similar.

"We do not need to stand with your ways in order to stand with your cause, Philippa." Margarita and Yennefer seemed to be taking turns talking, almost as if they had rehearsed this.

"And how do you propose to stand with our cause without supporting the Lodge, hmm? By reopening Aretuza, my dear naïve Rita?"

"Precisely," Yennefer answered for Margarita. "By pouring everything we have and know into Aretuza."

"And then what? Raise a generation of Sorceresses who will live forever as outsiders and inferiors as we do now? I do not deny the obvious importance of teaching children to wield magic properly in order to preserve our future, but it is useless without the protection of a brethren of mages strong enough and wise enough to force a place at the table with the leaders of the world."

"What is created by force will be taken by force, Philippa."

"And what is not taken by force will never be ours, Rita."

"You're wrong." Triss's voice rang loudly from behind Eskel.

"Oh, look. She speaks," Philippa taunted. "Ready to fight your own battles, Merigold?"

"Rita and Yenna are right, Philippa. If we only face the non-magical humans through combat, the most we can hope for is temporary respite. They may be forced acknowledge our might, but they will never acknowledge us as people. The only way to create an equal footing in this world is to be integrated into it."

"Which we already are-"

"No, we're not. Not enough. We have some mages who work as advisors to crowned heads, some mages who fight with armies, and some mages who do errant jobs for pay. The rest of us live as if we're above it all, coasting through life on our singular ability to manipulate nature. What we need is a respectable work force that compels society to see us as an essential cog in its workings – using our abilities to live shoulder to shoulder with humans rather than above them."

"That's right, Philippa," Margarita added. "What we need is not to train our pupils to try and bend society to their will, but rather be contributing members to their society. We may have the ability to produce magic, but beyond that, we are no different from other humans. We need to live as such."

"This is foolish," Philippa responded with a dangerous inflection. "You want me to abandon the plight of the Lodge simply because you want Aretuza to reopen its doors? No, you bitches. You traitorous, treasonous bitches. Never."

The moment he noticed Philippa's fingers start to twitch, Eskel threw himself between her and Triss to shield her – only to find an overwhelming weight heave him onto his side. He struggled to see who had thrown him off balance – whether Keira or Fringilla was coming after him – but he saw that it had been Triss.

"No, Eskel! I will not let you be hurt for me," she shouted as she sprang away from a curse aimed at her head. Yennefer and Philippa threw something remarkably similar at one another, and both Sorceresses were propelled off of their feet by the collision of their spells.

Eskel watched as vines of red shot from Triss's outstretched hands, winding themselves tightly around Philippa's wrists before she could regain her footing. Yennefer jumped to her feet and began muttering a continuous string of incantations, and Eskel saw that Philippa's struggling fingers were immobilized. To his left, Fringilla fired a volley of spells at a dodging Geralt, but Ciri managed to attack her from behind, grabbing her by the wrists and wrestling her to the ground. The young Witcheress put her sword to Fringilla's throat, and Margarita rushed to Ciri's side, adding a warning hand lest Fringilla try anything stupid. Eskel and Geralt both sprang to face Keira, but she only stood in place, helping neither side.

Philippa was cursing wildly, fighting madly against both Triss's and Yennefer's magic. Every time Philippa pulled on her bonds, Eskel noticed Yennefer's incantation rise sharply in pitch and volume, as if in pain, though Triss seemed thankfully unaffected. "You wish to kill me, then, you fucking idiots? All to save one lowly Sorceress from being a spy for a group whose only goal is to serve your fucking interests – the fucking interests of a gaggle of ungrateful fucking imbeciles who don't understand their own fucking actions?"

"Do you still not see, Philippa?" Triss demanded. "This is not about me. This is so much bigger than me. The future and the welfare of magic are at stake."

"That's what I'm fucking saying-"

"And you are only jeopardizing them more with your machinations."

"The fuck I am! Keira, if you care about your future at all, do something! Now!"

This seemed to shake Keira from her reverie. She still did not move, but she turned to face Philippa with an expression that read both shame and resolution. "They're right, Phil."

"Excuse me?"

"The future is not going to be won through war and manipulation. I don't want to live for the next century or more in constant fear of retaliation against me and my people. That is not how mages will win a seat at the table."

"And you believe schooling is? Tell us about your experiences in school, Keira. Did it shape the future of magic? Did one stupid pupil learning how to fucking cast spells help shape the future of fucking magic?"

"You're still not understanding, Philippa," Margarita spoke from her position over Fringilla. "We're not simply reopening the doors to Aretuza to teach the same old spells, produce the same old pupils. We're reinventing education for Sorceresses – possibly for all mages if we can talk sense into the old men at Ban Ard. We're going to create a future generation of magicians who can participate in and contribute to every aspect of society, who will both endeavor to and be able to achieve full integration into the human world. Our work will teach our students to create peace and live in harmony with all humans, to ensure the prosperity of magic for as long as humans are around. Do you not want to be a part of that?"

Philippa did not react at all, though Eskel felt as if the fight was winding down. Yennefer trailed off from her incantation, sagging slightly from exertion. Geralt ran to her, but she held him off, raising herself to a proud height despite the obvious fatigue. Triss loosened her fetters on Philippa's wrists even though she did not seem as taxed.

"What do you say, Phil?" Triss's voice pierced the air.

Philippa was still stone faced, but she finally spoke. "And in this new world order of the reinvented Aretuza, what role am I meant to play, exactly?"

"You would be with me, Phil," Margarita replied kindly. "If you wish, if you buy into our cause, I would need you by my side – as my equal. Co-headmistress, overseeing curriculum, while I supervise pupil development. You are unparalleled when it comes to strategic designs for such grand purposes as I'm proposing. I need your talent, your drive, and your passion to help me achieve our vision."

Philippa did not give her answer, but the last of the tension broke. Triss dropped her binds on Philippa's wrists completely. Margarita and Ciri backed away from Fringilla, allowing her to her feet. Keira looked around sheepishly.

"Think about it, Philippa," Yennefer forced out raggedly. "You can't be in a good position when you're considering the idea of inciting pogroms. I know you're not an unscrupulous person. I remember what you did for Ciri once. I know what you care about, and that you will always do what's best for your cause. Just think about our method, Phil. We strive for the same cause. We just need you to help us achieve it."

Philippa gathered herself, rose to her feet, and opened a portal. Fringilla hurried after her, stepping into the light as soon as Philippa was through. The portal wavered for a second, ostensibly as Philippa waited to see if Keira would join her. When Keira remained rooted to the spot, the portal closed.

There was a long period where nobody said a thing. Triss walked to Yennefer's side and lowered herself onto the grass. Yennefer followed suit, clearly glad for the excuse to get off her feet. Geralt positioned himself behind her, pulling her back to lean against him. Margarita, Ciri, and Eskel joined them. They wordlessly checked each other, then themselves, for any injuries and other such causes for concern. When none was found, they continued to sit in silence.

Until Keira spoke.

"So, uh…" She cleared her throat. "Can I be a part of this new school?"


	15. Chapter 15

Triss and Eskel sat side by side in the bumpy carriage, facing the trio of Ciri, Yennefer, and Geralt – whom their friends had recently dubbed, simply, 'The Family'. While Geralt and Eskel bantered, mocking the pomposity of the invitation letters they were holding, Triss watched Ciri lose her battle against the sleepiness that sometimes overcame relaxed passengers. The young Witcheress rolled her head onto Yennefer's shoulder. When a particularly vicious streak of sunshine hit Ciri squarely in the eyes, causing her to stir, Yennefer obtained Geralt's invitation letter and raised it above Ciri's face to block out the offending light, allowing her daughter to sink back into peaceful slumber. Geralt gave Yennefer a lingering kiss on the crown of her head for her efforts. Triss smiled at the loving sight of The Family before her.

When they pulled into the entrance of Aretuza, Triss saw the figures of Margarita and Philippa awaiting them. Rita was wearing her usual kind expression, while Philippa was clearly still angry that Rita had used their meager school funds to hire a carriage for the visiting group.

"Ciri, we're here." Yennefer shook her daughter softly. Ciri sprang into wakefulness immediately, ever the alert Witcheress.

"Oh, boy," Eskel muttered from next to Triss. "Philippa looks pissed."

"Does she ever look any other way?" Geralt supplied.

"I can't say I blame her," Yennefer rebutted. "The entire reason for this event is to raise funds for the school; I do not see the need to spend the money for us to ride in from Gors Velen simply because we are 'very important guest'."

"Thought you liked the finer things in life, Yen," Eskel quipped. Yennefer made an odd face, but was prevented from speaking more by a gleeful Margarita pulling open the door to their coach.

"Welcome – or, welcome _back_ – to Aretuza, our very important guests!"

"Yes, yes, welcome back," Philippa trailed in from behind as the passengers alighted. "We are still very much a shithole, and it will take the cost of many carriage rides before that can change, so we apologize if our decrepit school offends your very important eyes."

Geralt picked up two errant bricks from the ground and laid them onto the crumbling fence. "There," he retorted, "that about pays for what the price of the carriage would have covered." Ciri and Rita burst out laughing, and Triss suppressed a giggle herself. Yennefer took the arm of the fuming Philippa and led her away, shooting Geralt a look of amused reproach. Geralt shrugged innocently at her.

"Well, dears," Rita addressed the remaining members of the group after her mirth had subsided, "the fundraiser is not until tonight, as you well know. I will show you to the faculty lodgings – newly constructed! – where you can rest and change out of your traveling clothes, and where you may choose your accommodations should you decide to spend the night."

"Lead on, Headmistress!" Ciri chimed. She seemed excited to be visiting the site under such different circumstances than the previous occasion.

Eskel and Geralt heaved the group's many trunks onto every available inch of their upper bodies capable of balancing luggage, impressively keeping pace with the group considering their burden. Witchers. Triss began to offer her help, but both men grunted her away before she could finish, so she went ahead to join Ciri and Rita on the tree-lined road instead.

"…knew some combat beyond the mere basics, that would make them all the more well rounded, don't you think?"

"I'll have to think about it, though it does sound an enticing offer."

"It would only be for a few months in the year. And I can make sure your courses overlap with your mother's visits to the school."

"Trying to recruit Ciri now, Rita?"

"Don't you think that combat lessons should be a part of the curriculum – at least during times of war?"

"I suppose."

"As an elective, to be sure."

"Elective?"

"Specialized high-interest courses for pupils to choose from."

"Hmm. Never had those in my day."

"Precisely. They are a new addition to the curriculum – the brainchild of my partner in crime."

"Philippa advocated for choice?"

"You joke, but she is a genius when it comes to curriculum design. I've thrown out almost all of my old plans since she came on board – and I couldn't be happier!"

"That's great, Rita." Triss still had an important question. "Now, what about-"

"Your classes? Don't worry, Triss Merigold. We have big plans for you. Philippa designed a series of courses specifically with you in mind."

"Oh, shit?"

Rita pulled a face while Ciri looked amused. "You will need to watch your language when you become a teacher, though."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's alright. I'll let Phil tell you about your classes later. In the meantime, we're here. Faculty lodgings. This is where you'll be living once the school reopens!"

Triss took in the view. The wooden cottages, set in concentric rows surrounding a large cobblestone courtyard, all had two stories and appeared at least as large as Triss's house in Novigrad. They were placed in such a way that each lodging came with a healthy stretch of land, yet the properties were close enough to one another that they reminded Triss of a small village. There was a good-sized shack in the middle of the courtyard that was clearly designated to be a shop, and a few hundred paces away from the square sat an inviting building in which Triss could picture many raucous evenings. She was suddenly looking forward to becoming a part of this new community.

Geralt and Eskel pulled up behind the women and, after being instructed to choose any lodging for the time being, each plodded into a cottage. Geralt chose the one nearest to him, which made sense to Triss considering the number of trunks balanced on his back, but Eskel headed purposefully to the cottage in the furthest corner for some reason. Ciri took a lodging a fair distance from her parents', muttering something about how loud they were at night.

"Make yourselves comfortable, dear," Margarita offered kindly. "We will serve lunch at high noon, and the fundraiser ball will begin precisely at sundown. The time in between is all yours to spend how you wish. Now, please excuse me while I take care of some last-minute preparations."

"Of course, Rita. And thank your for your hospitality."

"Won't be hospitality for long; pretty soon, it'll just be a job," Rita winked before she turned and sauntered back toward the school.

Triss crossed the courtyard to where she had seen Eskel enter a cottage, but she ran into him just as he was coming out.

"Hey, babe!" He pecked her on the cheek.

"Hi," she smiled. "Why'd you choose this one?"

He frowned. "Why? You don't like it?"

"Oh, no! It's not that at all," she reassured quickly. "I was just wondering why you wanted to walk this far carrying all of that luggage."

"Ha," he grinned, patting his biceps, "I didn't even notice I was carrying luggage!" Triss replied with a soft chuckle. "But really, I don't know why I chose this one. It just spoke to me, I guess. I kinda like the corner lot, with the land in front."

Triss admired the two stretches of yard around the cottage, joined together by a small cluster of colorful bushes. Eskel was right; the corner lot was definitely charming. "You have good taste," she complimented, vaguely aware it was a compliment to herself, also. "Anyways, I'm going to change out of my traveling clothes. I'll meet you in the courtyard soon?"

"Sounds good, babe." They kissed chastely before Eskel turned and walked off. Triss found herself feeling a little disappointed, but she quickly regrouped. She took a small breath, stepped into the cottage, and shut the door behind her.

"Hey, Yen!" She heard Eskel's voice boom from somewhere in front of the cottage. "Why are you coming from this way?"

Triss heard Yennefer pause before answering. "Philippa took me to see a ruin on this side, then I heard your voices and decided to join you." There was something in Yennefer's tone that seemed awkward.

"Hope she didn't bite your head off. Geralt's over there." Triss presumed Eskel pointed out their cottage to her.

"Thank you," Yennefer answered. Triss thought that Yennefer had walked away, but she heard her friend's voice once again from the same spot. "Eskel, I fear I have an unpleasant subject to broach."

"Uh oh."

"Forgive my rudeness, but the name you address me by – though I am glad for the familiarity and am glad that I can finally call you a friend, I'm afraid I must insist you not use that name anymore. It's really a private name reserved for the lips of one individual."

"Right, yeah, of course. It's Geralt's name for you. Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Not at all. It is I who should apologize for being so onerous over a mere name."

"Honestly, must be nice to have something like that, you know? To be so in love with someone that even the name they call you is something to cherish." Triss felt the longing in his voice reflected in her own heart.

"You will get there, Eskel. Just keep fighting for her. Triss is worth it."

"I know. And I will. Thanks, Yen…nefer." He sounded so sad, and it was so unnecessary. Triss cursed herself for being such an idiot. She desperately wanted to tell Eskel how she felt, but something blocked the words from leaving her lips. There were times, more and more often now, when she really believed that she didn't deserve him.

Triss shook the thoughts from her mind and redirected her attention to her trunks instead. She needed change into appropriate attire for all of the touring they were bound to do.


	16. Chapter 16

Before the group went to lunch, Yennefer and Triss had spent the morning guiding Geralt, Ciri, and Eskel around the grounds of Aretuza, pointing out places of note either for reasons of historical significance, professional interest, or prized memories. Geralt and Eskel had obliged the Sorceresses by listening somewhat attentively, but Ciri seemed genuinely fascinated by the place that was once meant to hold her future.

Yennefer secretly hoped that Ciri would accept the job offer from Margarita and Philippa. Not only would it allow Ciri to leave the dangers of the Path for months at a time while providing her with a handsome salary, it would give Yennefer a chance to visit with her daughter a lot more often. She kept her opinion to herself, though; she was learning to give Ciri the freedom to make her own choices without parental pressure – something that Geralt had taught her to do. She spared a warm thought for the great father that her Geralt had turned out to be.

Once the group had filled up on food in the school's dining hall, they moved to the meadows, where Yennefer and Triss – with utter exasperation – were currently watching the three Witchers play 'Slap One Another With Sticks'.

"Why they find this to be anything but crass, I will never understand," Yennefer intoned to her friend over a glass of rosé.

"Agreed," Triss clinked her flute against Yennefer's. "Although I'm sure they say the same thing about stuff that we're interested in."

"I'm certain they do. And, of course, they're wrong."

Triss snickered. The two women watched the scene in silence for a few moments. Ciri was Blinking circles around the men, slapping Eskel and Geralt on the arms and thighs with her long stick that looked more like a whip to Yennefer. Geralt made many failed attempts to grab Ciri, at one point even lunging into Eskel by accident, causing the two men to tumble to the ground while Ciri rained her stick down upon them.

"At least they look happy playing this stupid game," Triss mused wryly.

"They'd better not emerge from this happy, stupid game with a hundred red welts for tonight's ball."

Triss groaned, and Yennefer took a particularly long sip of her wine.

"Yenna?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you for some relationship advice?"

"Are you positive you want to ask _me_?"

"Yes. Have you seen how happy you and Geralt are? Of course I want to ask you."

"Very well. Go ahead."

"How…" Triss seemed to need a moment to rephrase herself. After a few more false starts, she sighed and revealed resignedly, "I can't bring myself to tell Eskel that I love him."

"Can't because you don't, or can't because of something else?"

"Something else. I do love him. But there's something holding me back from saying the words."

"Would it be the first time you've said it to a man?"

"Yenna…"

"Oh, dear. I wasn't thinking about that. Never mind that."

"Right…"

"But he is the first man you've loved since…"

"He is. The only other."

"And the last one you loved broke your heart quite spectacularly."

"We're treading on dangerous ground here, aren't we?"

"Not if we're mature about it. And it may answer you question, no?"

Sigh. "I suppose."

"You think it's more than just fear of being hurt?"

"I actually do. I think there's an element of…"

"Yes?"

"Of feeling unworthy of love."

Yennefer turned to look at her friend fully. "Why?"

"I haven't always made good decisions in my life. I've done a lot of damage either for selfish reasons or for misguided reasons. This Aretuza job might be the first good thing I've ever really done."

"Stop. You were integral in defeating the Wild Hunt – something which you had no obligation to do yet risked yourself willingly for; you allowed yourself to be subjected to torture by Menge's men so that Geralt could follow a lead in his search for Ciri; you helped persecuted mages escape pogroms in Novigrad at your own peril; and while I'm a little jealous to admit this, you were the first woman to show my daughter how to stand up for herself against men in her days at Kaer Morhen. You were also the one to convince Geralt to reach out to me for help with Ciri's powers, despite wanting to keep him away from me and to yourself. Without your encouragement, he may never have written me about her, and I would not have the family that I do today. You've done so much good, Triss. Do not allow your mistakes to overshadow your accomplishments."

Triss simply blushed.

"I will say this once, my dear: You are absolutely deserving of love. And equally as important: Eskel is absolutely deserving of love. If you wish to provide that to each other, there is no sense in fighting it, is there?"

Triss hugged Yennefer around the shoulder. "Thank you, Yenna."

"If you truly wish the thank me, you will help me break up this ridiculous game. Ciri has gone and opened yet another gash on her cheek, and she's still not stopping. I swear, this daughter of mine…"


	17. Chapter 17

When sundown finally came, and the awaited ball at last began, Triss found herself fidgety and nervous. Despite Eskel's heartfelt compliments, she could not help but feel self conscious for some reason.

She searched the room for Yennefer, hoping to extract a few words of confidence from her friend, but knew it was a lost cause when she spotted Yennefer and Geralt alone in a corner, whispering tenderly amongst themselves, oblivious to the world around them. Triss recalled the last time those two were at a ball in this exact room; Yennefer had demanded that Geralt present himself as some sort of trophy, and had even refused to kiss him all but once for appearance's sake. Now, it didn't seem as if Yennefer cared a lick what anyone thought of either of them; it was clear that Geralt's feelings had become far more important to her than anything that might hinder her desire to shower him with the love she knew he both craved and deserved. Those two really had come a long way.

Triss could only hope that her own relationship with Eskel would turn out similarly. But she knew that before it could have any hope of doing so, she would need to get over herself.

"Eskel?" Triss reached out to him across the table, interrupting a conversation he was having with Keira and Lambert.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Would you accompany me on a quick walk?"

Lambert and Keira exchanged meaningful looks before Lambert clapped Eskel on the back sympathetically.

Eskel made his way around the table and proffered his arm to her. "Of course."

* * *

"Everything okay?" Eskel asked once they had reached the balcony, the night air cooling their skin from the heat of the crowded ballroom.

"Yes. But also, no."

Eskel was both confused and concerned. "What do you mean?"

"I guess…" Triss's reticence was causing flutters of panic in his heart.

"What's going on, babe?"

She fixed a reassuring smile at him, but he could not find comfort in it. She had him too on edge now.

"Triss, please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"That corner cottage you chose?"

"Yeah?" Was this about a cottage?

"You really like it, huh?"

"I do..."

"I will speak to Rita, but I'm pretty sure that it can be mine once the school reopens."

"Okay." Eskel was still not comprehending.

Triss lowered her gaze shyly. "I suppose I wanted to ask you… to see whether you wanted to move into it with me."

Eskel's heart fluttered again, but this time, it was with an entirely different emotion. He cocked his head to find her eyes. "Wait, are you sure? You sure you want me to move in with you?"

"Positive, Eskel. I love you."

Eskel stood in place, stunned, unable to do much aside from gape at her.

"Eskel?" Triss looked searchingly at him. He noticed a hint of fear in her eyes.

"I'm sorry… Did you just say… Did I just imagine you say…"

"I said that I love you."

"Um…"

"Eskel, say something." There was a sense of urgency in her voice.

The realization dawned on him, and he beamed at her. "Does this mean that we're in love, babe?"

She beamed back in a smile of elation, then kissed him fully and deeply, melting him like only she could. It was a long while before they parted, gasping for air. He found himself unable to wipe the grin off of his face.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, hun."

"It's okay. You're worth the wait." She rewarded him with another tender kiss.

"I wanted to say it so badly then. And so many times since then."

"What stopped you?"

"It's… I had some issues about myself that I had to come to terms with first."

Eskel felt the familiar tiresome pang of jealousy. "Was it about Geralt?"

"What? No, not at all."

"Then what was it? Unless you'd rather not say."

"It was completely about me and who I am, but… It's not that I don't want to share with you; it's just that Yenna's already helped me sort it out earlier, and I'd rather not rehash it now. It's a little painful, I suppose."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Then let's not talk about it. We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

He felt her smile against him. "Thank you. And Eskel?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you… say it?"

"I love you, Triss."

"I love you, too, Eskel."


	18. Chapter 18

Ciri had known, just like everyone else in the room who saw Eskel and Triss reemerge from the balcony, irrepressible grins plastered across both of their faces, that they had reached an important milestone in their relationship. She had seen her mother smile approvingly at Triss, then had watched as Geralt and Lambert both punched Eskel in the arm in some kind of male congratulatory display.

Ciri was happy for them, truly. Just like she was ecstatic to see how in love her parents were.

But goddammit, one would think that between the two Sorceresses, someone would have figured out how to cast a silencing spell so that Ciri did not have to suffer through all of the adults in her life being disgustingly loud so close to where she was trying to sleep.


End file.
